it ain't a sin

to want something better than the shape you're in





A sermon on the problem with Jesus' address:


In school, I was an average student. And honestly, sometimes I couldn’t even chin up to that bar. But as high school tilted toward college, my fortune began to change. While I may not have been great at rapid, standardized testing, I could collect information and relay it reasonably well. 

In college, it became apparent I was suited for the kind of reasoning the academy prized. Slowly, school transformed from a series of hurdles into a set of stairs I climbed with greater and greater ease. So when it came time to apply for seminary, I aimed high. 

I applied to a few schools, but one stood at the top of my list. A prestigious one. A seminary that graduating from would have been a feather in my cap. A fact I could casually reference in conversations and impress everyone around me. 

But as I began to hear back from other seminaries, that distinguished one remained ominously quiet. In hindsight, I should have heard their silence for the warning it was. But I was so oblivious I missed all the clues. In fact, I asked for more time from the other seminaries to wait to hear from my first choice.

Then, one day in spring, I did. The letter came to my parent’s house. And I should have suspected from my mom’s voice that the thin envelope couldn’t have contained any good news. But I was so blindly optimistic I insisted she open the letter and read it to me right there over the phone. And that’s how I found out while that seminary may have made an impression on me, I had failed to make a similar impression on them


It’s not a particularly pleasant experience to recall, but it’s a universal one. I’m sure you’ve gone through similar incidents. We all have. We’ve all failed to make an impression on someone whose opinion mattered a great deal to us. I’m sure you can relate.

I’m sure you can relate, even as your patience with me has to be wearing thin. Here I am talking about how I didn’t measure up while simultaneously making sure you know I wasn’t all that bad of a student. And then the great punchline is I still got to go to seminary. Just not my first choice. 

*Do I have your sympathy and admiration yet?


The truth is, though, even that story is hard to retell. And you’re right; I carefully crafted how to relay it. When it comes to talking about letdowns, it’s easy to dig a hole that’s too deep to get out of. There are some disappointments we can barely bring ourselves to speak of. They’re too raw. They touch a nerve too tender. 

We’re all trying to meet every last standard out there. And it stings when we don’t measure up. But the criteria that matter the most to us aren’t the ones way out there. They’re the ones that hit closer to home. 

If you’re having trouble thinking of a comedown you’ve experienced, just shrink your field of consideration. It wasn’t failing to impress that boy or girl that took the wind out of your sails. No, what really stings is coming up short with the people you’re trying so hard to impress you don’t even know you’re trying to! If you want to know what benchmarks you’re most trying to hit, just look to where you’re on highest alert. Where you most sensitive.


We come to church to learn how to handle the holy. But often, it’s the most ordinary moments of life that are hardest to touch. And meeting the standards of the people we live with day-in and day-out has to be at the top of that list. 

However, that’s all that’s going on in today’s Scripture! Today’s passage is just a litany of objections that Jesus isn’t living up to the standards everyone has set for him. And chief among these is that Jesus is from the wrong side of town, Galilee. Jesus is not a thoroughbred Bethlehemite. 

The irony, of course, is that not only was Jesus born in Bethlehem, but he is also, in fact, directly from God! As the Gospel opens, “In the beginning was the Word. And the Word was," where? That’s right, “with God!” With God! Jesus isn’t just from Bethlehem; he’s straight from the Father’s bosom! Not only does Jesus meet everyone’s standards, he exceeds them! 


Not that Jesus appeals to any of that, though! Jesus never once brings his considerable credentials to bear. On the contrary, he goes out of his way to turn up on the wrong side of everyone’s expectations! He’s born in a stable. His companions were a bunch of hicks from the sticks. He ministered to the riffraff of society everyone else had written off! And he was condemned to death outside of the city limits.

Jesus planted his flag right where we find it so hard to go. It’s where he lived. It’s where he died. And, three days later, it’s where he rose, too! Jesus’ ministry happens nowhere else except the short end of the yardstick! Jesus has no problem handling those parts of life we can barely bring ourselves to speak of, much less touch! 


We might come here to learn how to handle the holy, but the Holy One of Israel does precisely the opposite! He comes from God and all the holiness thereof to come into contact with those places of life we avoid. Including yours. 

Jesus doesn’t rest on his laurels because they’re not for him. They’re for you! Jesus’ attainments aren’t for his sake. They’re for yours! When Jesus goes to the cross, he goes there on your behalf. And what he does there is enact what Luther called the “joyous exchange!” 

At the cross, Jesus takes all your shortcomings upon himself. And in turn, he gives you all his worthiness! Jesus doesn’t appeal to his credentials because he’s come to give them to you! And he gives them to you right where he spent all of his ministry, where we fail to measure up. Jesus stands most tall where you fall short.

When you find yourself on the wrong side of everyone’s expectations, including your own, you’re right next to Jesus! When you’re furthest from measuring up, you’re closest to Christ. Closest to Christ and all his righteousness! His righteousness, accrued, not for his own sake, but yours!


And with that, we come to the end of the sermon. I know, it’s abrupt. But all I can do at this point is step on the Good News we’ve just heard. Saying anything else would be to serve you the salad after the appetizer. Ending the main course with a bunch of lettuce. So “let us” do this, and “let us” do that. And that’s no good. Is it? 

You already have enough to-do’s in your life. And you don’t need me piling on. Do you? So here’s the Good News, amid all those litmus tests of life, Christ is busy pouring out his limitless love for you! Proving his righteousness to you! 


The sermon ends where real life begins. Where Christ meets you in the thick of it! Where he transforms those places in life you have measure up into oases where his grace springs up! 

And the implications of this are endless! For example, it may mean that next time you’re under the microscope, the experience will become for you an occasion to see God a little better! Or it may mean that since you are no longer worried about yourself in such situations, you will be free to speak a good word to those who are bowed down by the all examiners out there. Or it may mean that since you know the tests aren’t the end-all-be-all, you will work to make them more equitable for all!

And that’s just a few potentials! But this between you and Jesus’ Holy Spirit let loose at his glorification, the cross. Not a busybody pastor foisting his pet projects on you. And for that, we all say amen. Amen!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

in measured hundredweight and penny pound

i take flight

anywhere you wanna go